Strength
by Moro-moro
Summary: The ambiguity of the word strength is lost on many... You can have the strength to fight, the strength to live, the strength to endure the guilt and the pain, the strength to lie, the strenght to protect someone... And the strength to love. KuroFai Shorts
1. One: Endlessly

_**A/N:**__ I noticed they finally added a character filter for Tsubasa!! To celebrate: a collection of KuroFai shorts, because not all of my drabbles are songficlets. Feel free to offer suggestions. Most of them will be sort of introspective pieces and short stories that just pop into my mind. If anyone can tell me what the sea is a metaphor for in this chapter, I'll be pleased. _

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**One: Endlessly**

"Where do you want to go?"

Fai blinked at Kurogane, biting his lip in thought. "Give me a minute," he murmured.

He looked around at his surroundings; a moist green light seeped through the trees, and moss squelched beneath his feet. Kurogane's hand was warm in his own, but even so, he felt empty in this vacant expanse of trees; lifeless, languid.

His eyes slid shut, and a breeze began to blow past. A smooth rustling filled his ears, dimming to the dull roar of the sea.

Clear blue light filled his mind's eye, and he was on the beach, standing alone on the broken expanse of gold. The blue of the water and the azure of the sky met, forming a huge, endless hemisphere that seemed to swallow everything else.

Waves crashed endlessly, filling Fai with a crushing loneliness. It tore at the very fraying edges of his soul, and he longed to be with someone.

Heat began to rush across his body, and he tipped his head up to the sun, drinking in the gold fragmenting the sphere of cerulean. He breathed deep; the earthy smell of the woods transformed into the warm scent of salt and sand on the breeze. The scent welcomed him, adding another touch of warmth to the cold horizon.

He had only been to the beach once, a memory that was stored in the very most boundaries of his mind, the part that was saved for his prolonged and plagued childhood. It was back when he was still Yuui, and Fai was still alive… Far, far, back; he'd never tried to think about it… They'd been very young then, too young to even go near the water. Someone stopped them, even though they wished at first to go… And then…

He remembered bursting into tears at the very sight of the expanse, and he clung to his twin, for fear of being torn into the lonesome world of the eternal sea.

There had been beaches in Celes, but they were always frozen and snow-covered. Nothing like the one from his earliest childhood; the sea was unobtainable there.

With a sigh as deep as the seas he dreamt of, Fai opened his eyes, the roaring of the sea becoming the wind in the trees, the breeze consisting once more of dirt and damp.

He squeezed Kurogane's hand, feeling the solidity of it. "Let's go to the sea together."

Kurogane nodded, sweeping Fai into his arms.

"_Forever and ever_…"

They closed their eyes, and were swallowed into the endless sea of the last horizon.


	2. Two: Words, Why, and Wavering Wills

_**A/N:** One of those little monologues that I can hear Kurogane doing. It came to me in the shower of all places... I let my mind wander and it came back with this. I keep telling it not to talk to strangers_!!

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**Two: Words, Why, and Wavering Wills**

Pretty words are _wasteful_. They do no good. It is more honorable to _do_ than to _say_.

Words like, "I love you" and "I want to protect you" are worthless. It is much, much stronger to do than to say. However, it is harder. Words are easy. You can throw them around then take them back.

Words can inflict more damage on a soul than the sharpest of swords; it's wiser to keep your mouth shut.

There's one word, however, that I dislike. "Why". If that damn mage asks me that one more time, I'll!

…I honestly don't know what I could do if he asks me why one more time. There aren't words to _actually_ tell him.

Sucks, doesn't it? As if anyone really needs to tell others their reasons. Sometimes, it's better not to be explained. Surely people would sleep better at night not knowing that, yes; there is someone in the universe that's out to get you. Eh. It's my business as well, and I assume I'm better off knowing.

But he won't be. Gods, he's cold now, not knowing! I don't want to know what would happen if I told him, if I could find the words.

And I can't. This is why words are petty and unneeded.

However, I've found… that sometimes… things are necessary. That there comes a time where you have to say what you don't want to; where you'd be twisting a dagger into someone's back by _not_ speaking.

"_Why_?"

"Because I love you, idiot."


	3. Three: Time

**A/N: **_Written in light of chapter 203. I am SOOO happy that Fai's character has progressed in such a way that he doesn't go all emo like he used to! Tho'... I still wanted to slap Syaoran for saying what he did... Gr. He's pissing me off a lot lately (Him and his Oedipus complex...)_

**Three: Time**

"You've changed," Kurogane commented, watching Fai walk down the deserted passageway.

For the longest time, the only sound were their footsteps and their breaths in the time-frozen hallway. Fai turned, a warm smile on his lips, "Time does that," he replied, stepping forward to Kurogane.

The swordsman snorted. He wondered if he answered the way he did because of the situation; if he did, it was appropriate. Time had changed everything, even the slightest details of their lives, past and future, as they had found hours before.

Fai stretched, clasping his hands behind his head. "If I had been stronger then… I'd have chosen the same thing as Syaoran-kun— that much is true. But I can't imagine the strength required to do that! He's so much stronger than you or I…"

Kurogane gave a noncommittal grunt; he did admit, it took a certain type of strength to sacrifice everything for one person, and the strength required to consecrate a love like that was something the ninja had forgotten until just recently.

The blonde leaned forward, laying his head on Kurogane's shoulder, burying his face into the cloth of his companion's cloak. He sighed deeply, Kurogane's scent filling his nose, sending his body into relaxation, while his instincts perked with the slight tang of blood amidst the combined smell of the ninja, cloth, and sand.

It was such a long time ago that he'd been in that valley. It had been so long of a life. So many years to become stronger or weaker—Fai wasn't sure which he achieved. A little of both he assumed. He was strong enough to live, but not enough to live alone.

"But that was then," he murmured, reaching out to wrap his arms around Kurogane's waist.

"And now?"

"…If it were you… I would."

Kurogane hugged Fai tightly, lowering his head just enough so that his mouth rested on the vampire's forehead. "Don't."

"You wouldn't, Kuro-sama?"

Fai's voice trembled with the question. All this time, and he was still afraid of rejection, Kurogane realized. There were some things that time could not change; he was more honest than before… which made him more vulnerable… and so that fear was ever present.

"I'm not strong enough for that," the taller man admitted after a long silence.

Fai gasped softly, looking up, bewildered; "What?"

Kurogane scowled, looking away from the amber eye that sought to search his soul for him meaning; it would be better to tell him than for the man to come up with some far-fetched reasoning. "I couldn't bear knowing—watching—someone with my face be with my loved ones, with you… To watch you fall in love without me, with someone that was me, but not really… Then to watch that me hurt you, and not be able to protect you the way I wished… I couldn't sacrifice our time, your memories… just for more time that I couldn't spend with you…" His arms tightened around Fai, as his frown deepened; "To me, more time isn't worth that. If you died… yes, I would be sad… but I would go on, knowing that I did everything I could to save you, knowing that you wouldn't want me to sacrifice everything for you…" He clenched his metal hand softly, sighing. "I'm not saying what the kid did was wrong—it was right for him… but it's not right for me."

A look of pure adoration spread across Fai's face, and Kurogane looked at him, his cheeks flushing a pale pink; "Not that I care or anything," he muttered lamely, scowling.

Fai stood on his toes, kissing the ninja gently, "Then I won't waste anymore of our time with useless deliberations," he whispered.

"Better not," Kurogane growled, moving his hand to grasp the back of Fai's head as he pulled the slighter man into a firm kiss.

"I love you…"

And that was something, from then on… that time could not change, no matter how it turned.

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	4. Four: Election

**A/N:**_ And this is written (during PreCal, no less) in light of tomorrow! Whooohooo! Election day for all us Americans. I will be soo happy when tomorrow is over so all the propaganda can stop. Maybe then my APLit class can move onto another chapter that isn't about rhetoric...?? XD I based it on the theme of "Election", but I don't think it's the kind you all will think of. _

**Four: Election**

He was never fond of the process, even though he never had to go through it. He found that choosing teams was a horrible procedure—he always felt bad for that last person chosen. He really hated doing it.

He glared across the line at the two people left: Souma and the new kid, Fai. In all actuality, Souma was the better choice, because she could at least run and catch. Fai, on the other hand, normally sat out in recess, but today, the teacher had coerced him into participation.

"I want Fai."

Souma made a face as she made her way over to Kamui's team, the boys there making a big fuss about having a girl on their team.

Kurogane didn't notice however, because he was too busy watching the utter joy on Fai's face.

He was a sucky speedball player, but he at least tried, and that was enough for Kurogane. The entire game, he could see the relief in the other boy's huge blue eyes, and that was worth it. And besides, they won anyway.

As the class made their way back to class from recess, Fai bounded up to Kurogane, grabbing the boy's hand. "Thank you so much, Kuro-tan!"

Kurogane blinked, "Huh?"

"I said thanks. Y'know, for choosing me," Fai said softly, smiling up at the other boy.

Kurogane felt himself blushing, so he pushed the blonde off of him. "Cut it out! My name is Kurogane, you twerp! And what's with the hand-holding?! We're not in kindergarten anymore!"

Fai giggled, "Kurorin is such a mature first grader," he sang, attaching himself to Kurogane's arm.

The boy grunted, irritated already with the new 'friend' he seemed to have picked up. Even so, he was glad to have elected to choose Fai for his team.

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	5. Five: Childhood

**A/N:** _I first posted this on my journal on Gaia (My username is on my profile), then decided to post it here. I've actually got a few chapters waiting for this thingy, but I've been working overtime on Gothix and my KuroFai Christmas story, Reason... Which, hopefully, will be done in a few days. Hopefully. _

**Childhood**

It clicked into place, almost audibly in his mind.

_A helpless, sobbing child._

"Ah."

This was what that mage hid; covered up with smiles, thinking that sugary happiness would cover everything up...

_A small, innocent child._

He'd been denied that assurance, growing up. It was nothing like his own childhood, living in Suwa. With his kind mother and proud father. With someone to always catch him if he fell, to help him when he was hurt, to give him food, warmth, and comfort.

That man had nothing but a tower to look to, a twin to reach for, and endless bodies piling around him.

_Stuck as a child who had no naivities._

As old as he may, or may not be, Fai had no reasoning abilities but the ones that were forced upon him.

_A child, with a child's thoughts. A child's beliefs of right and wrong; of forgiveness..._

He was not level-headed. He could not understand the urgency of the situation. He could not fathom the value of his own life. He simply could not understand that he was just as important!

_A lost, scared child._

In many ways, Kurogane had always felt that Sakura and Shaoran were not his only "children", but that Fai was included in the mix, despite the blonde's cry of 'motherhood'. He was simply not coherent enough to be a mother. He was more fit to child's play.

_A bitter taste that was only thought to be remidied by sweets. A penchant for horseplay. Unselfishness. Selfishness. Horror at the betrayal of a father figure._

It hit him, hard. That was the reason that the simple sentance, 'it doesn't matter' worked so brilliantly.

He turned to his companion, who was sitting complacently at his side, staring off at the cherry blossoms that surrounded Shirasaki castle.

"Childish," he grunted.

Fai turned his head, frowning, "What?"

"You're such a child," Kurogane muttered.

Fai gave a brilliant smile, "I'm older than you are," he reminded his ninja sweetly.

Kurogane rolled his eyes, turning away from the once-magician. Fai leaned into his side, his eye tracking a single, whole blossom, reaching out to catch it in an outstreched palm. He hummed in delight, spinning the flower between two thin fingers.

The ninja chuckled. He'd make a real effort to put up with Fai's antics from now on. Children eventually grew up... Hopefully, the blonde would learn the real right from wrong.

_Because you can always overcome your childhood_.

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	6. Six: Marriage

**A/N: **_Implied sex near the end there. Post-Tokyo. I simply love Vampire-angst Fai... -cuddles- (BTW, the metaphor with the sea in chapter one was Death. Figure it's been long enough to spill the beans. ^^) _

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**Six: Marriage**

**(Fai)**

It was not a marriage of wills. It was not a joining of hands or hearts.

It was the combination of _lives_. Forcefully so, painfully so. No say at all. No combined murmurings of love or trust or devotion.

(To think he once admired that man.)

It was not reciprocated—he did not want to give anything up.

(He was a selfish one, he knew.)

It was not a collective feeling: Just one's overwhelming desire to satiate some deep rooted egotism.

(Why would he be worth saving anyways?)

No words at all. Not comfort. Just screams and harsh shakes. A half-pulled punch to the face.

(He wanted to slip away so peacefully.)

It was not what he wanted. He did not want to be bound to this man. He did not want to enjoy the feeling of skin against his lips as he fed.

(He never wanted to eat anyway. Just fade slowly until he could slip away.)

He did not want to live, with half of a face, living as half of a human.

(He never thought he was human to begin with.)

He couldn't bear it anymore. It was crushing down onto him. He couldn't run anymore. He hated it. Couldn't do it.

(He had to cope with his feelings eventually.)

Tears ran down his face, pressed into the crook of Kurogane's arm, bitter blood filling his mouth.

(He was scared. Death loomed on the horizons.)

His heart had shut down finally, unable to cope with it all.

"I'll kill you," he whispered, blood dripping from his lips, pattering against the floor, mixing with his tears. He pressed his mouth to the wound, running his tongue against the ragged edges of the slit vein. "Don't want you to die," he said thickly.

He never wanted this.

(But it didn't mean he didn't enjoy their closeness.)

He never wanted how their lives were married. How their destines intertwined.

(But they were stuck together none the less.)

**(Kurogane)**

It was a spur of the moment thing. He didn't plan it. He didn't know about it.

(He couldn't have. So he didn't blame himself.)

They'd always been together anyways.

(He'd grudgingly accepted their closeness.)

He never could have predicted how the marriage of their souls would have changed them.

(He never would have thought he'd have missed him.)

He knew it was impulsive, selfish.

(He was selfish, he knew it.)

To force one who didn't want to live to do so… it was something he would have never thought he'd do.

(But he would miss him if he died.)

He didn't have the foresight to see the repercussions. He couldn't see the future.

(He never knew why he would have missed him so much.)

Their marriage was a painful one, with many screams and tears. It was a sad one, knowing that one day he would be hated.

(He couldn't stand a world without the smile, the blue eyes, the teasing.)

He did not regret it.

(He never regretted anything he did… Though he felt sorrow.)

Fai was speaking, his lips fluttering against his arm. Cool water fell against his heated skin, and with a slight gasp, he realized the blonde was crying.

"I'll kill you," came the muffled sigh. Fai's lips descended against the vein again, his skin tingling. "Don't want you to die."

Kurogane raised his free hand, tangling it into Fai's long hair. "You won't kill me. I don't die so easily," he said, echoing his vampire's words from worlds long ago.

(They were stuck together 'till the end.)

**(Fai&Kurogane)**

At the beginning, their marriage was not something mutual. It was the result of a panicked decision, desperation to keep a love alive, no matter the cost.

(They were together, their hearts stretching towards each other, scrabbling for purchase.)

At the beginning, it was painful, with pointed sighs, avoidance, and tears.

(But they were together, bound tightly to one another.)

"You say that like you know something." Fai tipped his head up, his mouth stained pink with blood.

Kurogane raised his arm, now healed by some vampire magic, and ran his fingers against the man's cheek. "I won't die, 'cause then you would die."

"You say that like I'm important," the blonde whispered, leaning into Kurogane's touch.

"You are," the ninja breathed, "I gave up everything to save you."

(They kissed deeply, touching each other like only those so intimately bound could do.)

This marriage was not as painful as the first, a bodily conjugation that consummated the binding of their lives.

"I'll be with you 'til the end…"

"'Till death do us part, hm?"

(It was a selfish decision. It was not a marriage of wills. It was not planned…)

But they could cope, and grow until their marriage was one that flourished with one another.

(Because they were finally together. For forever.)

(Because they loved each other enough to risk death for.)


	7. Seven: Paper Flowers

**A/N: **_I have no clue what prompted this one. It's an interesting situation to spawn an entire fic though... Hm..._

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**Seven: Paper Flowers**

"What sort of flower would it be?" He murmured softly, plumping the papery plumage with his thin fingers.

"Wouldn't be a flower, it's paper…" Kurogane muttered irritably.

The man hummed softly, "It would be a carnation," he sung to himself, answering himself. No one existed to him any more.

Kurogane shrugged, tearing his eyes away from his common-law husband. He couldn't bear watching the once vibrant man any longer. "I'm going."

Fai didn't answer him, "I knew someone who liked carnations once," he crooned to the flower, "Bright and red like you." He laid the paper flower down, reaching for a new piece of wire. His eyes absently trailed down to his lap, where numerous sheets of crepe paper lay, waiting to be shaped.

Kurogane's eyes swept the small apartment. Paper flowers flooded the room, spilling off shelves onto the floor; carnations, roses, cosmos, dogwoods, irises littered the view of white furniture and dusty walls.

Fai's hands shook as he piled cutout upon cutout, his lips pursed in silent concentration.

Kurogane sighed; nothing had been the same since the accident. _Fai _hadn't been the same. The man was now pale and ashen, confined to a wheelchair. His large, once energetic blue eyes were glassy and almost dead. He spoke to no one, not even his adopted daughter, Sakura, who'd moved in to help out. Ever since he'd been discharged from the hospital, he'd begun to make thousands of paper flowers. Every second he was awake, he was working on the petals of a new creation. Thin, shaking fingers deftly smoothed and crinkled petals of paper, pulled florist's tape along the stems, murmuring softly in pleasure when he finished one.

It was his fault, Kurogane knew. If he hadn't decided to surprise Fai with a date that night, if he'd watched the weather before going out, if he could've braked one second earlier… The entire accident wouldn't have happened.

He watched sadly as a tear streaked down Fai's cheek. They continued to plummet like the rain had that night, one after another, falling softly on the tissue paper, wilting the flower petals under his fingers. He continued to stack the small circlets of paper, one on top of the other, finally crunching them all together. He began to fluff it, the damp paper tearing under his fingers.

Finally he gave up, staring at it sorrowfully, sobbing quietly. In his lap lay the red carnation and the crumpled, damp, ice-blue cornflower he had been working on.

"…You were a pretty flower," he murmured mournfully. "It won't do if they wilt in the rain..." Kurogane knew what the flowers were for, and it made it even worse...

Kurogane tore his eyes away, unable to watch the scene any longer. It was his fault.

Yes… his lover had never been the same since the accident…

Since he had died.

"…I'm sorry, Fai," he whispered.

And as always, Fai didn't answer. He could no longer hear him.


	8. Eight: The Old Cliche is True

**A/N: **_This... is an AU for my current AU "Gothix". It's something that could happen, but won't. It's set in the same universe, but isn't at the same time, if you get what I mean? It's basically a character exercise that I really liked, so I'm posting it! YAY! Wheeeee... Not. _

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**Eight: The Old Cliché is True**

There's one thing they never tell you when teaching axioms and clichés in school. They're true. If I had ever known that heartbreak actually felt like this… I'd have never put it up for the sacrifice.

**XxXxXxX**

It was something stupid that broke us up. I can't remember what it was. I just remember him saying, 'We need to talk', and I scrammed. I turned and ran. I remember that.

I was scared. I didn't want to lose the one thing that kept me sane, kept me up… held me to this ground, that kept me from falling so far away that I wasn't even who I was supposed to be anymore. The one person who made me feel good about myself.

No, I didn't want to lose that. I was so scared. So fucking scared.

I mean, come on! Was that an overreaction? I mean, the deathblow to any relationship is 'I want to talk'. It's almost a cliché in itself! So I kept running. It's what I'm best at; running away from those I care about and the problems I just don't want to face.

I decided to take the bus home, to my apartment instead of riding home with him to his. I turned my iPod up, washing away my anxiety in screaming bass lines and loud drums.

I walked into my apartment to hear my phone ringing. I answered it, "Yes?"

"You didn't pick up your cell phone."

"S-sorry…" I flinched at his voice. He called me? He never calls me.

I stayed quite for the longest time before he spoke up.

"I… Well, I think that… I mean, you never…"

I sat, listening to his excuses the entire time, my eyes widening with shock, tears blurring my vision. "I don't get it."

"You told Sakura you were worried that I'd break up with you."

"It was only a passing thought!" I chimed, hands shaking.

"I said we needed to talk."

"…Are you going to say it?"

"As long as you know what I'm talking about, it's mutual."

"If you don't have the common decency to tell me, then I don't want to listen to a word you have to say!" I cried, slamming the phone down onto its base. I hung up on him. It was over, really over. I'd been too happy, I realized, to see how unworthy I was. Of course he'd break up with me.

Tears came heavily now, and I could barely see or breath as I pulled out my phone, punching in Watanuki's number, which was, strangely enough, the only number I remembered.

"Yeah? What's going on?"

"I… I…!"

"What's wrong?!" Worry seeped into his voice, and it was easy for me to visualize how he would be standing and acting, wherever he was.

I explain the situation to him haltingly, then sobbed until I could not anymore. Then I end the call.

I remember curling up in bed that night, exhausted by crying and the crippling loneliness.

**XxXxXxX**

After a month or so avoiding him staunchly, I break down and call someone. It doesn't matter. Not one of my friend friends, but someone I like enough to talk to this with. I call a girl whose name I can't remember, but she's pretty, with caramel skin and short hair. She's on the basketball team herself, and I remember meeting her trying to get close to… him…

"I think I'm going to ask him out again," I confide slowly, frowning against the phone's speaker.

She sighs, "Do what you want to, but I think I should tell you that I like him too."

"What?"

"A lot of people like him, Fai. Don't be dense."

"Why didn't you tell him? I thought you liked Tomoyo or something."

"I did. But I've liked him for a long time. I gave up because you were dating him."

"Mm."

"Are you mad?"

I think for a minute. I'm surprised, but not mad. "No."

"I'd like to tell him, so after you do, can I?"

I think more. "Yeah," I say slowly. Not because I don't care if she goes out with him or not, but simply because I think there's no way in hell he won't turn me down. The way we came together was so easy that it had to be that it was fate, kismet; we were made for each other. I let the matter pass.

**XxXxXxX**

I lean against the lockers, my back pressed into the cold metal. My face is hot. I can't look anywhere but him, however. I smile softly, and he moves forward, then stops.

"Feels like I'm about to rape you."

"Oh my!" I cry, raising my hands in defense. I laugh softly, then let my hands fall. I won't tell him that I would let him, I would gladly let him.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Um… well," I say softly, my face heating even more. The sound around me fades, and my stomach feels funny, like it's rising into my chest. "I know I'm stupid, so I do stupid things, and I'm jealous a lot, and I don't always pay enough attention to the things I should and I'm stupid… and well, I'm sorry. I really am. I'm sorry for what I did and said, and I want you to know… that I… I really, really like you, and I wanted to know… if you wanted to go back out with me?" I say, chewing on my lip.

He froze, the kind half-smile he held for half of my monologue sliding slowly from his features. "Oh… well, I… I'm… not interested at this point. I'm not interested in dating. Maybe some other time we could try again. See, I… I want to try being friends first. We were never friends before. I didn't like not talking to you and… Sorry, I don't want to. It's nothing you did, it's just how I feel, so…Can we just be friends?"

I swallow, forcing a smile on my grim face. I feel something heavy fall from the back of my throat, settling low in my body. I feel all my blood rush somewhere that's not my body, I feel empty. "Yeah, I… I understand," I whisper, almost too quiet for me to understand. I turn from him, walking slowly back to my crowd of friends.

"Why's my stuff on the floor?" I cry jovially, forcing myself into my routine like nothing ever happened. Sakura stares at me, an eyebrow raised. I hook arms with her, laughing loudly, trying not to make it sound too loud, "I got shot down! Shot down!" I sing to her, "No biggie!"

As I make my way to homeroom, I see the girl who I spoke with and waved, "Rejected," I say, crossing my arms above my face.

Be happy. Be happy. Be happy.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

You have friends. You have something. Don't make them worry.

You're fine. You are fine!

I slide into my desk behind Sakura, my skin growing clammy. I shudder, a familiar feeling sliding through my body.

I want it. I need the warmth from it. I need to let this ugly feeling out of my body. I kneed a knife. My head sways and my eyes grow heavy and I lay my head down on my desk and cry a little.

It helps… a little bit.

**XxXxXxX**

The next morning, that girl pulls him aside, and I turn my back, showing Watanuki a video I downloaded the night before.

Don't look, don't look.

After five minutes of spontaneous ranting, I turn, in time to see him hug her tightly.

I feel sick.

**XxXxXxX**

My first feeling is betrayal. She never said she was going to ask him out, just confess. How could he turn me down? That's the only reason I told her she could.

Then anger. Bitch! Bastard! I want to scream and punch them in the face. I HATE YOU. Then I turn the anger upon myself. If only I hadn't done that! If only I had begged the first time! If only, if only! But he was the one who said yes! If you wanted friendship then, why did you say yes?! I want to drive a knife into my skin, tearing apart my self until I get to my heart and pull it, beating, from my heart, and cut out that spot that has his name carved so deep! I pitch a hissy fit at lunch, screaming and crying, throwing food and books, finally leaning against a friend of mine's chest.

Then… nothing. I will not scream, I will not cry. I will not let them know they have hurt me in anyway. I will go on. I look up at my friend, dully remembering that she had had a crush on him before my ex. "Hey," I say, "I had a crush on you, but didn't do anything while I was going out with him… would you like to go out with me?"

My friend blinks, then smiles, "Sure, why not?"

Nothing. No spark, no happiness. I still feel alone.

**XxXxXxX**

I sit on the floor of my apartment, eyes blank. My face feels hot, but the rest of my body is clammy and cold. My mind is exhausted, and my eyes burn. There's a dull throb in my chest, closing it.

The center of my chest tightens and a stab of muted pain beats in this little ball that tightens there. Every breath I take gets harder, the tumor of pain extending its poisonous tentacles around my lungs. Every throb brings thoughts of him to my mind, tears to my eyes, and more chill to my skin.

He can't be seriously going out with her. Leaving me alone.

I can't do that. I can't be without him, I won't know how to live.

Another throb.

He is the only one I have ever dared to want, the only one I've ever dreamed of, the only person I've ever desired. The other girls and boys, nothing. He is the only constant.

Another throb, more painful.

I've heard the cliché, but I never gave it much thought. But it truly feels like my heart is breaking; every beat without him ripping a shred from my heart, throwing it away somewhere, wrenching everything apart.

I don't know if I can take this heartbreak any longer.


	9. Nine: Urban Ledgends

**A/N: **_I wrote this ages ago. I don't know why it took me so long to post it. Free-verse, story-verse. I really like this one. So, since I didn't warn you guys on Paper Flowers, I guess I should now. This is another one of those vauge death-fics that I seem to like. _

* * *

**Nine: Urban Ledgends**

_Have you heard that urban myth? _

_The one about the boys _

_Whose family was so angry at the world_

_That they took it out on their children,_

_And blamed it all on them? _

**Yeah, I've heard it.**

**That one's true.**

_Have you heard the tale, about that same family? _

_Where the children came to school, acting _

_Like nothing had ever happened? _

_The one day… Bam! the younger brother _

_Was dead. _

_Pushed from his window at night_

_And was left to _

_Suffocate and suffer in _

_His own blood? _

**That's no ledgend, it happened.**

_Have you heard that one rumor?_

_That the family now lives in our town?_

**Oh, no. That's not a rumor.**

**They live in the apartment next to mine.**

**The surviving brother still carries on**

**With an idiotic smile on his face, **

**Like he doesn't know what sorrow is; **

**Like he doesn't understand that he's got it bad. **

**But he knows. **

**He understands it better than we could ever tell**

**From that stupid smile on his face.**

_Have you heard that lie?_

_You know, that--_

**Oh, the one that the boy fell in love.**

**No, that's no lie.**

**He really did love the boy he walked to school with. **

**He smiled for him, too, and **

**When he did, **

**It was obvious that he loved, **

**But he hurt.**

_Have you heard that story? _

_That the boy went home one day_

_Happy as can be… _

**Don't call it a story, it really happened. **

**Happy as can be,**

**He was**

**Talking about a new anime that was coming out…**

**I parted ways with him at my door.**

**And he went in his.**

**Later,**

**I hear screaming.**

**Then silence.**

**I hear a click next to my wall…**

**Then my name…**

_Have you heard the tale…?_

**That I heard the gunshot…**

**And his blood came raining into my room…**

**That I was admitted for **

**A month**

**Because even though my hands were clean**

**I couldn't get the blood off of them.**

_Did you hear that urban myth…?_

_Where the father kills his son, then turns the _

_Gun onto himself…_

_Asking why no one understood…_

_Then left them both to die? _

**It's no urban myth. It happened six weeks ago.**

_Yeah… it's just… _

_I can't believe… _

_That something like that would ever happen. _

_Not here in this little town; _

_It's always so quiet and peaceful here..._

_So, how—? _

**No, I'm quite aware that you're asking**

**Why an athletic, crude guy like me**

**Is buying some shoujo crap of an anime…**

**Well…**

**It's because it's the last thing he said he wanted.**

**And that**

**Is no lie. **


	10. Ten: Dreaming

_**A/N:** Gawd, I wrote this back when the new chapters that were coming out were for the CELES ARC! That's, what, a year or so ago? (And if I remember correctly, this was the first Tsubasa story I ever tried writing. O_O ) Well, anyway, I never got around to putting it up, and I found it while cleaning my harddrive the other day, and I thought, "Why not?". So, this is my take on what could've happened after Celes... BUT DIDN'T. *sigh* _

_

* * *

_

**Ten: Dreaming**

Their distance didn't disturb him one bit; it was to be expected, really. At least they were civil when they were speaking to one another… But it was those around the corner, 'look-to-see-if-Fai's-oh-wait-he's-not-Fai-but-is-he-coming?' looks made him wonder what the others were thinking, and it was Kurogane's furious glares that sent chills down the magician's spine.

And then… there was the Dimension Witch. He had the sinking feeling that she knew everything, and why wouldn't she? She placed Kurogane especially in their care to reverse any damage that Fai did, didn't she…? But as much as the Witch made him feel uncomfortable, he was thankful towards her. Her shop served as a no-man's-land, where his curses and magic were shorted out, due to the mass amounts of magic and protective charms around her house. Here, he could do no harm, and no harm could be done to him. He was safe...relatively.

Fai momentarily took the time to break his smile to sigh into his cup.

"Is there something wrong with your dinner, Fai?" Yuuko purred, leaning forward.

Blinking at the sudden intrusion into his thoughts, Fai smiled. "Nothing at all, it was wonderful! That assistant of yours really can cook, Yuuko-san!"

Yuuko smiled. "Yes…" she then waved her hand dismissively, waving whatever worries that hung in the air away as the rest of the group peered curiously down the table at Fai. "Go, relax. Take a bath," she advised, raising her wineglass to blood-red lips.

Fai stood. "I think I shall. Thank you for the meal," he chimed. The air was getting heavy with stares, and as he left the room, he was positive that he felt Kurogane's eyes on his back.

Fai padded down the hall, listening to laughter coming from the kitchen. Yuuko was saying something, then Sakura's light laughter cut through the chatter. The mage paused for a moment, smiling as he listened. It was a good thing that _she_ hadn't been told about what happened on Celes.

Continuing down the hallway, the sudden thought of his home made him wince. Syaoran had been civil, because otherwise, Sakura would worry. The same with Kurogane… well, if civil was staring at him like he was dirt, then, sure, he was civil.

But this was in company; when they were alone… Fai chuckled. "It's like children playing the silent treatment game," he whispered, pushing the door open to the room he was forced to share.

His eyes grazed over the shelves of knickknacks and bric-a-brac that covered the walls. It seemed that there was something new on the wall everyday, and Fai never got tired of looking. Everything had a story, and it was fun to sit and imagine what they were and where they would eventually end up. Like, that golden ball in the corner: what wish had been paid with that?

Falling onto crumpled sheets, Fai breathed in deeply. Everything smelled faintly of vanilla, smoke, and alcohol. It was oddly comforting.

He sat back, thinking. It would be a long while before Kurogane came in and told him politely to get off the bed, he reasoned—it was his night to sleep on the floor. There was only one bed in the room, so they took turns—Fai allowed himself to unwind anyway.

Thoughts and worries left him, and he closed his eyes, falling into an unguarded sleep.

Again, the dream was the same; the scene in the castle of Celes…

_Syaoran crying, face cradled in his hands, Kurogane leaning over him, glaring at Fai… "Those two you traveled with, of course, have been shown your past…" Then everyone else fell away. Ashura, the real Fai, and Syaoran faded from being. _

_They stood at odds, Fai staring shocked at the enraged Kurogane. _

"_I…" Words choked in Fai's throat. He couldn't say anything. _

"_You are nothing more than a liar… Fai," the swordsman spat. "Even your name was a lie, __**Yuui**__." _

"NO!" Fai shot up, sweating. Blinking, he looked around, then found Kurogane standing in front of the bed, raising an eyebrow at him. "Ah! Kuro-tan! How… unexpected," Fai said softly, grinning at the man in front of him. The magician stood. "Well, off to the floor!" he chimed, smiling even though he'd rather scowl or frown or have no expression at all…

"Shut up," Kurogane growled.

Fai blinked. "Wh-what? Kuro-rii, what was that?" he stammered, his forced smile faltering.

Suddenly, Fai found himself face to face with the angry man. Looking down, he found Kurogane's fist tightly wound into the cloth of his shirt. There was no escaping now. "Really! Kuro-puu can be so violent!" he whined.

"Wipe that fake grin off your face."

Fai's face blanked in shock. "I…It's not fake," he lied.

"Act like you want to! _Idiot_! There's no need to lie!" Kurogane hissed, shaking Fai slightly.

Fai gasped. "It… it's the only way I know how to act," he said after a long time.

"You act like _yourself_. No one knows how to act, they do so on feelings. There's no need to know, it just comes naturally."

"Ah…" Fai leaned forward and laid his head on Kurogane's shoulder as he began to cry.

Sighing Kurogane rolled his eyes. "You really are as stupid as you look. Take my advice and don't cry. Save your tears until you've gotten over your pain. Go on living until you're not afraid of anything." He dropped his hand from Fai's shirt. "If you don't, you'll only be stopped by it all. I can't say whether the goal you're working for is noble or useless; it's not my place, but if it's something you want to do, then do it. Don't get caught back in yourself. "

Fai shook his head. "I can't. I'm going to ask the Witch to remove my curse. I don't want… to kill anyone again… because of my magic..."

"That's impossible. Syaoran already asked if she could do that. She said the price would be too great for any of us to handle, that your magic is part of your being and that only you can take away the remainder of it."

Fai shuddered. His only hope of being rid of the magic that made more of a murder, gone. "Then I can't travel with you guys anymore. Who knows what misfortune will befall us if I do?"

"I figured you'd say something like that," Kurogane said, stepping back slightly. "Sit," he instructed. After the magician had followed his order, he sat beside him. "I also asked more about what your king said about me. It's true… So I figure as long as I keep traveling, I can keep you from carrying out what you have to. Also… If you want, I'll do what I can to stop those bad dreams you've been having. "

"You…" Fai stared, shocked. This offer… it was…

Kurogane looked at Fai for a long moment. "Would you rather be controlled mindlessly?"

"It's not a mindless thing," Fai mumbled. "But, that would hinder my wish…"

"I thought you didn't want to kill. I'm offering you a respite. Protection. I'll never leave your side. ...Not because I have to stay with you, but because I want to. I want to protect you, so you won't have to worry any longer."

"…Well… yes… Thank you, Kuro-p…" Fai paused. That didn't feel right. "Kuro-ta…" Nor that. He ran over endless nicknames for the man next to him, but none of them how thankful he was at the moment. Finally, he settled on one. "Thank you, Kurogane."

There was silence for a moment, then Kurogane gave an annoyed grunt. "It's Kuro-rin, Kuro-tan, or Kuro-puu, or even Kuro-woof… Whatever stupid nickname you want to use," he mumbled, looking away as he scowled and blushed furiously.

Fai broke out into a large grin. "Kuro-woof!" he exclaimed, laughing. "I had almost forgotten about that one!" He leaned over and hugged his companion tightly and placed a gentle kiss to the swordsman's cheek. "Still, thank you…"

* * *

"Hey! Wake up you guys, it's time for breakfast!" Sakura chimed, barging into the room, flipping on the lights. "Oh!" Blushing slightly, she smiled, knowing that most of the tension in their group would be resolved as she regarded the scene before her.

Fai and Kurogane were curled up together on the bed, sheets tangled between them. Kurogane's arms were wrapped protectively around the mage, one hand tangled into the man's shoulder length, blonde hair.

Fai was far more elegant in his hold on Kurogane; one arm was wrapped lightly around the ninja's waist, the other around his shoulder, his fingers lightly digging into the skin of Kurogane's neck.

"Sakura? What's taking so long?" Syaoran poked his head into the room, instantly shushed by Sakura.

"Look!" she whispered happily. "They're getting along!"

Syaoran blinked, taken aback, blushing furiously. He grabbed the girl's arm, tugging her away from the scene.

And so, on the two slept, tangled against each other, dreaming the same contented dream.


	11. Eleven: Death

**A/N: **_Not as depressing as the tile makes it sound. _

* * *

**Eleven: Death**

Silently, the snow is falling, building in the darkness of eternal twilight, covering the small blood-stained boy with thoughts.

What does it mean to be alive?

Was it the fact that he still breathed, that his heart still beat and sped, that he was there?

He wonders just what determines the classification of 'alive'.

Thoughts? Hopes? Dreams? Emotions?

He wonders, because surely, he isn't alive. He wonders what it's like to be alive.

He doesn't think anymore, he abandoned his hopes and dreams in a stream of crimson; his emotions only span one spectrum—fear and guilt.

But then…

What does it mean to be dead?

Is it the absence of all these things? But how are we to know what a person thinks and feels once they stop talking?

Wait, is death the absence of noise? Is death when someone shuts down completely, not saying a word, their breath so silent that it's almost nonexistent?

He feels that he himself is surely dead, for he can't even feel his own heart beat anymore. His breaths are silent, and he feels no more.

He wonders because all these bodies around him are dead, but they look like they did in life.

He wonders because his brother is at his feet, dead.

He breaches the stint between life and death briefly, screaming in terror at what he's done. And then he dies yet again.

Softly, the snow is falling, glittering around the castle like magic, muffling the screams that echo across the wasteland, doing nothing to cover the bleeding bodies that decay around the king.

What does it mean to promise?

If words are simply words, they hold no meaning. They fall from lips like gentle rain, covering ears with sweet honey… but they mean nothing.

What makes a promise a promise?

Is it the feelings behind it? Or is it the feelings of the person who heard it?

He wonders because he's about to make the first promise he ever made.

What does it mean to feel?

He's already forgotten, or maybe he just never learned. Everything crushes him, his insides are frozen. He can't move on. He is a spiral of unhappiness, his simple joys transforming into other's pain.

He can't feel. So he's forgotten how to.

He wonders because sealing the king and leaving them behind is the most painful thing he's ever done.

Quietly, the rain is falling, crashing to earth with a soft sound, punctuating the witch's words, covering him with sorrow and apprehension.

What does it mean to lose?

Loss, he reasons, is the absence of something important. He knows what it's like to lose something so important that he feels like he could never move forward again…

So he froze his life.

He wonders because watching the boy give it all to save the girl, he realizes that he might just be wrong in his definition of loss.

But then…

What is it like to endure?

To continue forward despite all adversity, towards that one goal that you'd give anything for? To move forward… to move forward…

He wonders because he's never had a progressive goal before…

Dully, the rocks crumble around him, a crater in the wall the size of his body, barely covering the sounds of the ninja's anger.

He wonders what it's like to truly care.

Surely, the ninja doesn't care for him—it's simply anger at losing the backup he provides. The irritation at having to carry him to the bar, then back to the coffee shop where they lived. Anger, irritation, hatred…

That was what he wants to hear in the soldier's reprimand, and that's what he hears.

He doesn't hear the concern or the gruff warmth in the ninja's voice. He misses it because he's never cared for anyone and no one's cared for him.

But he wonders what it's like, because something roars to life in his chest.

So he wonders why this pains his heart.

He's used to being hated, so why does it hurt so much?

He wonders because he desperately wants Kurogane not to hate him.

Shattering, the wall is shattering; the sound is almost deafening against his ears, heightened by the pain searing through his head.

What is it like to die?

Is it painful like it is now? Or will, at the final moment, all the pain leave his body and he will be lucid as death comes to take him away. Will he be aware of dying? Is it a slow transition into nothingness…?

But what is death? His old childhood question leaves him breathless, confused, and sorrowful. He'll have to leave this person, that's what death was. Leaving and not coming back.

He trembles and sobs softly, because it hurts.

Why does it hurt?

All his life, he wanted nothing more to die. Was it because of the breaking of his second promise? No… It was because he was leaving. Because he could never see him again.

Because he was dying for something he knew he could never do.

"_I'm sorry." _

Piercingly, the silence was broken, his voice harsh from screaming and crying, but loud even to his own ears; it did nothing to soothe the tension of betrayal.

What did it mean to betray?

To go behind someone's trust, to hurt them indelibly.

What did it mean to trust?

To put faith in someone, no matter what.

Why did they trust him? Why did they care? Why did he let this happen?

He wonders because he feels like something within him has died.

It's deafening, the harsh labored breathing of the ninja.

He wonders once more what death is.

It is leaving. It is disappearing. You can never touch that person again. Gone. Gone.

He wonders because he does not want that person to die!

Why? Because he loves him. But…

What does it mean to love?

He cannot explain it, he just knows.

Silently, the blossoms fall to the ground, coating the pathways with light pink snow, soothing his sorrow.

Lips touch lips and skin caresses skin, and he knows what it's like to be alive.

He knows what it's like to feel, to care, to promise, to lose, to endure—he knows them all inexorably now. He knows the sting of sorrow and the joy of touching and living. Everything is beautiful now because he knows how to trust, but he also knows how to betray trust, and now he's learning to regain it. He knows what love is and what pain is.

He now knows, too, what it's like to die. There are many types of death, he realizes, spiritual and emotional and physical; they all present different symptoms, but the pain is real no matter what happens. He knows the death of a friend, the death of a lover, the death of a past, a country, an era…

He surprises himself, for he now knows that even though he was surrounded by death, he never truly knew what it meant because he never understood life.

He has finally moved forward.

His hands slide into the ninja's, their finger's locking together gently. They break apart in all but that, but remain connected at a deeper level.

And he knows that this connection will never die. He doesn't even stop to wonder.


	12. Twelve: Touch of Death

**Twelve: Touch of Death**

It was unfamiliar, yet at the same time, so painfully recognizable. Hot tears fell from his eyes, burning acid down his pale face. The hands tightened around his throat. He choked, blood scorching his lips, frigid against the cold.

As the spindly fingers compressed upon his airways, thumbs expertly pressed against his jugulars, his throat tightened. He could literally feel his esophagus closing in upon itself, mimicking the ache in his breast.

He didn't need air to sob. He didn't need to breathe in any longer. He doubted that he would even inhale even if those hands weren't there. They were just a prop, just an aide to the presentation. He was dying anyway. He trembled, breathless, soundless cries leaving his body. He didn't resist. He couldn't even if he tried.

It wasn't that the hands were too fast, too strong; he had no will to fight any longer. Snow danced before his eyes, and a faint noise of sorrow left his lips—a soft choke, a garbled last exhale, a musical distortion that was his voice. It echoed with immeasurable grief, the last cry of a mourning bird. He'd escaped death many times before, and each time, he damned himself for living—now that he faced the periphery of death, he gave grace to each escape, but now, he was ready.

His heart thudded in his ears, the only sound now in the corpse littered room; he stared up at his killer. Veins burst in his eye, blood spreading across the viscous lens of his vision. Eyes cold as the winter he spent in the valley turned crimson and all else faded away until it was just a pair of strong red eyes.

A trembling mimicry of a sigh left his lips, now the same shade as his eyes, and he lifted his hands to his killer's, holding them tightly, aiding instead of abetting.

He would do anything for those eyes; if he was wanted dead, then he would die. He'd been promised death long ago. A faint sob wracked his body—

Dead, both dead… they would die together. His eye fluttered shut, and he fell limp against the hands, half-dead in body, dead in mind.

He registered a faint cry and the sound of footsteps, then the harsh sound of metal permeating bone and flesh.

He fell.

He was falling in the relief—he knew the sound of those footsteps, he knew the weight and strength behind them, he knew the voice that the force of impact ripped from that body… He was drowning in relief and air.

He gasped.

* * *

It was unfamiliar, yet at the same time, so painfully recognizable. He remembered it from years before. Hot pain lanced through his body, radiating from his shoulder. He could feel his blood leaving his body, scorching the cold body he blindly clutched to him. There was no sound in dimensional travel, but he could feel Fai screaming. He could feel the sharp nails digging into him, the shaking; he could almost hear the harshness of Fai's bruised voice vibrate against his chest.

And they landed. He could no longer stand, he could no longer think; he and the magician tumbled to the ground, the blonde landing atop him, from the feel of it. However, that too, was lost as his shoulder was jarred. He kept his mouth shut; mentally glued it closed. He wanted to scream. Normally, he would, warrior's pride be damned; but Fai…

He could hear the man screaming, pleading at Syaoran. He could hear him screaming the same thing over and over, and he wanted to sit up and smack the beautiful, idiotic blonde to keep him from saying things in such a fearful, grief-stricken, broken voice. But he couldn't, and he couldn't stop himself from fading away, but he was desperate to prove Fai wrong; he would live.

He needed to breathe. Each movement was like torture, but he needed it. He had to.

He opened his eyes to the dark.

He fell.

He was falling into the familiarity—he knew the place he sat, the gentle condolences, the pad of footsteps behind the screen doors. He was drowning in that sweet smile, that sparkling blue eye.

He smirked.


	13. Thirteen: Vows

**A/N:** _After finishing watching the second part of Shunraiki (again), I just started writing. I really hate those vows-- it's so un-Kurogane-ish. And it would be devistating to Fai if he ever heard them, I think. At that point in the story, I don't think he'd be strong enough to handle them. I guess this is what inspired this? It's not really KuroFai at all. T_T I hate that._

* * *

**Thirteen: Vows**

He….. shouldn't be hearing this. He shouldn't be listening to this. He shouldn't be here like this at all.

The wounds were still fresh—why allow them to be torn open once more? It suddenly felt like ice was being poured across his skin; his heart ached.

He should leave. Go back to the reflecting pond; go find Syaoran—something, anything… anything would be better than listening to this.

Of course he understood these sorts of things—he'd partaken in enough of them himself with Ashura. Another pang to his heart.

He wasn't quite strong enough to listen to this yet without fears. Without doubts. Without the pain.

Yet he still stood here, hand to the wooden doors, wondering why Kurogane hadn't snapped up and throttled him for eavesdropping yet.

A new line, something even more sacred.

Finally his hand decided to withdraw; he snatched his hand to his chest, cradling it limply with his other like it was injured. He didn't know what injury he was nursing—the fact that his body wouldn't obey him when he told it to or the way his chest ached with every beat of his heart.

It wasn't what it sounded like.

It couldn't be what it sounded like.

Maybe it was. He could see—just barely, squinting through the crack of the door—he knew Kurogane had just seen the golden flash—there was no mistaking that it was him! There was no one else in this entire world that had his hair and eyes… yet it still continued. He had to have seen him—he always had seen him before, even when others found him to be unobtrusive. Distant. Barely there—he was always there in the peripherals of Kurogane's sight! Except this once, huh?

In retrospect, it was a short exchange. Yet heartbreak made it long, unbearable. When the final syllable left the princess's mouth, he fled. He had no choice but to. He didn't want to see what came next, if anything came next— something would probably come next.

It didn't mean anything that they'd sacrificed so much to each other, did it? The poor ninja probably hadn't even noticed, or care to remember, that he was stuck with him, did he? Unspoken vows. More important… it was certainly more important to keep him alive wasn't it?

No. Pretty princesses with wide lively eyes and quiet voices were adorable, much better to protect than old, cursed magicians who had penchants for lying and running away, who killed one of said princesses—

Sakura…

Another sorrow deepened his heartbreak. He felt like sitting down to cry. He sighed softly; there were others who were wounded far more deeply than he. Syaoran.

He found the boy atop the roof, staring distantly off into the sky.

Living is hard isn't it?

Living and loving is even harder, though…

Break upon break, he was delivered that night. He didn't deserve gratitude, and he was tempted to tell the heartbroken boy that, but… it was comforting in a way to know that he did everything he could to help his princess.

He left Syaoran with a slight pat to the shoulder and a slightly less broken heart.

He still wished he hadn't heard that. He still wished he could've moved before his world, so carefully reconstructed, so utterly shattered once more, but held quietly, tightly, so the pieces wouldn't shatter with a promise of something stronger than glue or blood… then that, too, was…

There was no name to what he felt. Sorrow was too shallow, but grief was too deep. Maybe he'd just lived too long a life to put up with misunderstandings. He had thought that…

But he was wrong, now wasn't he?

Once again, he was wrong. Misguided, misunderstood… misused.

A sigh and a frown parted his lips, and he sat down there, on the floor, in the middle of the hallway. He had no where to go, no on to speak to, nothing to do but dwell on the day.

He didn't want to dwell anymore. He wanted to go back to him, his companion, his friend, his ally, his enemy, his ninja, his savoir, his lover… He drew his knees to his chest, laying his head upon them. It was too much loss for one day. He lost his Sakura-chan, the girl he saw as a daughter once more. He'd never be able to apologize or hug her again. Despite Syaoran's stalwart promises of bringing them both back, he knew… that she—that she—would never…

He wanted to go and speak to him about it; tell him how much losing her again hurt, how he had hoped Syaoran would bring her back and they could be a family again for a little while.

Impossible. Impossible.

He wouldn't let the tears fall. There were those who hurt far more than he did. Syaoran hadn't cried. At least, he hadn't cried where anyone could see him. He would be like the boy, his son, his second son… and be strong despite the loss.

But it felt like he, too… had lost a loved one.

What would he do now…? He'd finally let it out, let it bloom, let its delicate petals open to the sunshine warmth of him.

And then he heard that.

His mind always circled back to that, no matter how he tried to distract himself. He always harped. He could never let anything go. But this hurt far more than the rest. Why did it hurt more? Why did it overshadow the pain of losing his princess? Of seeing her stabbed again, in the exact same place he slid the first sword into her breast? It shouldn't be forefront in his mind, losing Kurogane.

In fact, it wasn't losing him. He never possessed him enough to lose him in the first place. He'd given up whatever claim he had—if he even had one to begin with—that morning in Tokyo, and again in Infinity, and for the final time in Celes. Over and over and over again, he pushed that man away; it didn't hurt then.

But maybe it didn't hurt because those times, again and again—as many times as he pushed Kurogane away, Kurogane pushed back, closer, closer, closer; saving him as many times as he needed it, picking him up every time he fell to the floor, yelling at him exactly when he needed it…

Truly, in every sense of the word, Kurogane was his savior. From death, from life, from pain, from guilt, from his past, from his present…

He had become stupid. He'd begun to nurse the notion that the warrior loved him, because certainly, why else would anyone notice him, pick him up, save him again and again, no matter the circumstance, the reason, the cost… the cost… oh, god, if he didn't love him, why pay so much?

To return here? So the group wouldn't be slowed by grief and tears and injury, he'd given everything and so much more to him?

He could barely breathe; his throat closed tightly, painfully, around itself, and his chest swelled with pain—he felt like he was going to burst with it. Tears came then, softly enough that the were invisible in the shadow, trailing down his cheek from his single golden eye, pooling against his collarbone, dripping one by one onto the fabric of his clothes.

It was a cruel game he was playing of give and receive. How much longer would it be until his body was no longer his own, but Kurogane's? How much could the ninja give until he died? Until he could not fulfill that oath that was so important to him, until the need to return overthrew his loyalty and he could no longer return because he gave every damn thing to someone he didn't love just so he could come back in haste to someone he did?

Not only was he hurt, he was confused. He'd only begun to return to normal, but now, he didn't know what normal was. He was stupid, he knew, so if he went along like normal, happily chirping nicknames and things when he was upset, he knew he would slip. Not only would Kurogane know he was unhappy, but he would also know of his eavesdropping.

But he should know already! He purposefully let that slip of his hair and eye show through the door, praying that it would stop—that Kurogane would see and stop and he wouldn't have to hear!

But he heard.

His body was cold without his magic, without the warmth that hope and love brought to him.

There came a light hand upon his head. He tipped his head upwards and he found that he could not hate this girl, this young woman who prayed so hard for Sakura's safety, who had made Kurogane into the man he had fallen in love with.

"Fai-san," Tomoyo said softly, "Don't grieve alone."

He stood slowly, nodding, taking her soft, unspoken promise that Kurogane was in his room alone. He heard the suggestion in her face, and he would fulfill her expectations of him. He knew she knew, at least, for it was her who promised him the first time, who calmed him, who saw how desperately he loved her ninja the first day they arrived.

He was almost afraid to open the doors. He didn't have to, Kurogane pulled them aside, allowing for him to step unsurely into the room that the night before had been a promise of togetherness but now held only something desolate for his broken, beating heart.

"Tomoyo-chan sent me here," he said faintly.

"From the hall, I know. I saw you leave the pond earlier." Kurogane jerked his head to the opening of his outside doors. True enough was a clear view to where he had been standing before he had come to speak.

He shook his head softly, tears falling.

"I… miss her too," Kurogane said gruffly.

He'd never tell. He would hold the heartbreak tightly and cherish it as proof that he was human and he loved. Even unrequited at best, his love for the man before him was the best, the happiest thing that had ever happened in his life… so, he would never tell. He would keep this secret locked away behind bars more sacred than his past, and he would make it so that no matter what, his ninja could keep those vows.


End file.
